


Perspectives

by CarrotsandDragons



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Fun, Gen, Revenge Plots, hawke being hawke and doing hawke stuff except shes from a different characters pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 13:50:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9274778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarrotsandDragons/pseuds/CarrotsandDragons
Summary: “In her effort to protect her family, Hawke becomes the villain of someone else’s story–and she’d like to take revenge.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> Another tumblr work *shrug emoji*

Revenge was silly, useless, and far too complex for her liking. The Maker, she believed, would punish those who’ve strayed in this or the next life.

But as her enemy thrived, grew her fortune and changed, Abigail’s need for vengeance tore at her soul like a rabid beast: relentless, unceasing.

“We’ll get her,” she promised, thinking back on her Brother’s memory. “I’ll find out what she did to you.”

Standing near the docks in the middle of the cold, mid-autumn night, Abigail clutched a dagger beneath her cloak while waiting for her enemy to arrive.

“Sorry I’m late–I had a prior commitment.” Her voice was calm, honest, and cheery though Abigail jumped with shock nonetheless. She hadn’t heard her approaching.

“Serrah Hawke,” she greeted, fighting her fear through chattering teeth.

If Abigail didn’t know any better, she’d truly believe her to be a hero of fantasy: she was tall, taller than she remembered, with a red cape that billowed in the wind and shining silver armor. It sparkled beneath the light of the moon, illuminating her sword and the pretty glow of her dark skin.

“I’m happy you made it at all, Serah.” The sight of Hawke’s smile made her stomach twist and lurch as though she’d seen throw up.  

“A strange place for a meeting don’t you think? If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to get me alone–but we both know better than that don’t we?” She continued to smile through her pleasant warning, her owlish gaze steady, unwavering.   

“I only want to talk about my letter,” Abigail promised, lying as the wind rocked the warehouse lanterns on the street.

“I’m listening.”

[Keep Reading!]

Abigail took a step forward, tightening her grip on her carefully poisoned blade.

“You probably don’t remember me. My Father owned the mills in Lothering. You…knew my Brother.” She explained. “He courted you.”

“Oh.” Hawke dragged the word like a heavy breath. “It was more of a ‘passing interest’ actually. We didn’t share anything.”

“You remember him then?”

“I don’t forget friends so easily.” ‘Friends’ Abigail held back a stifling cry.

“And do you remember what happened to him?” She took another step closer, her voice heavy, wavering with quiet rage as her despair bubbled up from the inside.

She remembered, Abigail thought, but there was nothing, nothing on her face or in her voice that lead her to think Hawke was even sorry.

“Not really.” She answered after a moment of contemplation. “I mean, I know he ran away but-”

“Stop lying!”  Abigail shouted, now close enough to thrust her knife forward, drawing it to Hawke’s throat with impressive speed. “You’re lying! He didn’t run away!”

Despite the danger, however, Hawke faced her assailant with relaxed bravery.  

“Someone came prepared,” she teased. “Was this your big plan? Get me alone to pull a knife on me? It’s bold, I’ll admit, but I don’t like being threatened so maybe you should put that away and we can talk like Ladies.” She sounded very close to laughing but her eyes were Hawks, not Owls.

“Not until you tell me what you did.” Abigail hissed through her teeth. She had the upper hand now so Hawke’s ominous threats meant nothing.

“It’s poisoned. So unless you want to die you’ll tell me where he is.” She pushed the tip against Hawke’s throat to emphasize her point. Still, she stood brave, cocky.

“Oh Abigail,” she sighed, “Do you really think I’d let you kill me?”

“Enough talk!” She had her, Abigail told herself. Anything more Hawke had to say was a waste of time. She finally had her. Hawke wouldn’t get away. “What did you do to my Brother? Where is he?”

“Oh? Is this what this is about?” She lowered her voice in mockery, “You’re upset because your Brother abandoned you?” 

“He didn’t abandon us!” She shouted, “I know he was going to see you that night–what did you say to him?” He had feelings for her. For some reason Abigail couldn’t see, her brother wanted Hawke’s affection. He must have let her sway his heart, convince him to leave the village for something.

She had worse thoughts, of course, the type of dark, angry fantasies she never let herself speak. But even now, after so many years, she’d hold her hope dearly.

“Just tell me.” Her voice quivered, shook and faltered as though she were on the brink of crying.

* * *

“You’ve seen him, haven’t you? He left to see you last night!” She cried on Hawke’s doorstep almost six years prior. She sniffled once or twice and tried to wipe her tears away.

Not even Hawke who placed a hand upon her shoulder and lied with the gentle smile on her face.

“I’m sorry, Abigail. I’m sure he’ll be back soon.”

But that was then, back when she was just a Foolish girl and couldn’t a demon from a sheep.

“You may have fooled everyone else into believing you, but I’ve seen through your wicked ways!” She could do this, Abigail thought, she could finally bring Justice to her family.

“I suppose you have a point.” Hawke finally agreed.

“I knew it.” And for the first time in a long time, the hope in Abigail’s heart began stirring. “I knew you lied. Where is he?”

“He’s dead.” Hawke all but whispered in what had to be pretend sympathy.

“What?” Abigail choked. She could feel her heart sinking, falling to her feet. No, she couldn’t believe it, this couldn’t be.

“He’s dead,” Hawke repeated simply. Abigail froze as the truth forced itself upon her quickly.

“Don’t worry,” She cooed, “It was mostly painless. He died almost instantly.”

“No! No! You’re lying!” She reeled, pulling back her hand to strike her Brother’s killer in a violent fury.

But Hawke, to Abigail’s surprise, was ready.

Grabbing her arm for leverage Hawke pushed Abigail against the stone wall of the foundry. The full force of the impact stole her breath and the knife from her hold. She gasped, but the cold metal hand around her throat is what took her breath away.

“And this is why the cycle of violence never ends.” She spoke as though it were a simple inconvenience to her day. “We could have discussed this like Ladies and now, well, I think you’ll be joining your brother shortly.” She tightened the grip she had around her throat.

“You…you killed him.” Abigail struggled to breathe. She clawed at Hawke’s armor, desperate to pry her fingers open, but her efforts were pointless, she acted in vain.

“It’s amazing what traits run in the family isn’t it?”

“W-why?”

“Because he deserved it. That’s why.”

“He didn’t!”

“He did!” Hawke shouted, curling her fingers tighter, rushing Abigail’s throat.

It was painful to breathe and to move but Abigail strained to look her brother’s killer in the eyes, a final act of defiance before her murder that the cold, mid-autumn evening.  

She couldn’t understand this.

The woman before her had been cocky, strange, and easily amused but not frightening, not really. But as she gazed into Hawke’s large golden eyes, the fringes of her vision blurring, Abigail found the dead-eyed monster that Hawke had been hiding all this time. “He was a persistent bastard I’ll give him that,” Hawke thought back almost fondly, “A fighter till the very end–I don’t see the resemblance really.”

“He–He was a good man.” Abigail choked out in defense. “He had a family.” It was in that moment that Hawke paused. And for a moment, Abigail may have seen a glimmer of regret, of sympathy, in her eyes. But then it vanished—snuffed out like a candle in the coldness of the night.

“Then he shouldn’t have threatened mine.” As her voice grew cold and dark, Abigail began to accept she was going to die. Her Brother’s killer would be her own–The Maker had a grand sense of Irony. But she struggled to take another breath, even as the world around her turned dark, cold, and foggy.

But she didn’t die.

Hawke released her and stepped away, allowing Abigail to fall down to the ground on her knees.

She coughed, gasped and ran her thumb across the print of Hawke’s armored hand.

She bent over beside her, taking hold of the fallen knife with a sigh.

“Your Brother found out something he shouldn’t have. I had no other choice.” She explained, examining the blade. Abigail scoffed in response, unsure if she could speak. “Hm…Well, now that you’ve got what you want, am I free to leave?”

“That’s his!” Abigail croaked, unable to stand. “Give it back to me.” She didn’t need it, or want it, but demanding back her possessions was all she could do to preserve a sense of dignity.

She was afraid, her heart beat like glass in her chest but she couldn’t let Hawke know how badly she was broken.

“You are so dramatic.” She rolled her eyes, voice perky and amused. “Here you go.” Hawke tossed the knife with a careless gesture and it landed with a thump behind her. It was a small victory for Abigail, but a victory nonetheless.

“I didn’t see it at first, but you really do look alike.” She commented pointlessly. “Though I’m not sure if that’s a good thing.”

“This isn’t over!” Abigail struggled up to her feet.

“I’ll find you again! And I-” She paused, words cut short as Hawke’s sword pressed against her cheek.

She didn’t even see her draw it.

“And this is why I don’t give second chances.” She sighed exasperatedly at the thought. “I don’t like loose ends Abigail–I find them threatening.” Hawke slid the flat of the sword down across her cheek. “But my Sister wants me to live a more ‘honest life’ so here I am: living ‘honestly.’ ” She lowered her sword slowly, pointing tip to Abigail’s chest. “So I’ll give you one more chance–just one. But if you dare threaten me or, Maker Forbid, my family–I won’t just kill you: I’ll make you watch me kill everyone you’ve ever loved.” Hawke spoke in a slow, calm voice, staring straight into her eyes.

She stared back at Hawke in tight-lipped silence, unable to hold back her tears as she prayed to the Maker for protection and mercy.

“How…How did you get like this?” She didn’t understand. Abigail knew her before, she knew her back in Lothering; She may have been reclusive but nothing she did ever lead her to believe she was so wicked, so single-minded in her beliefs.

“…Go before I change my mind.” She sheathed her sword and turned, her cape billowing as she walked away. “Kirkwall’s a big city, so make yourself scarce–oh!” She stopped and turned around again, voice cheerful, owlish eyes gleaming. “Greet your Mother for me!” She smiled at her, joyful and radiant as though the monster inside her didn’t exist. Or perhaps that was simply another threat.“Go well!”

She disappeared into the night, no doubt to returning to her fanciful estate.

And Abigail sobbed, clutching the knife Hawke had thrown behind her in defeat.

“I’m so sorry.”

She’d return home without justice. But she tried.


End file.
